


midnight

by kyochisas



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, inspired my dangan maf, light v3 spoilers??, non-despair, this is probably ooc af i'm sorry, you can rip polydactyly ouma from my COLD DEAD HANDS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 09:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10241135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyochisas/pseuds/kyochisas
Summary: based on a danganmafia game where i (kiibo) was dating ouma's sixth finger.don't ask.EDIT: I'M AN IDIOT AND FORGOT TO MENTION. This was intended for the DR Valentines Exchange for 'Toni' (@porkcutletslut). I hope you like it!! I'd be more than happy to write something else for you, as this is really really short!! In fact, I'll probably be writing one of your other prompts in the near future!!





	

**Author's Note:**

> based on a danganmafia game where i (kiibo) was dating ouma's sixth finger.
> 
> don't ask.
> 
> EDIT: I'M AN IDIOT AND FORGOT TO MENTION. This was intended for the DR Valentines Exchange for 'Toni' (@porkcutletslut). I hope you like it!! I'd be more than happy to write something else for you, as this is really really short!! In fact, I'll probably be writing one of your other prompts in the near future!! 

The two stood outside the building, feeling the gentle, evening breeze against their backs and dancing through their hair. The party inside was well underway, considering the chatter that leaked into the night. They, however, said nothing for a while.

The meeting at the ballroom was designed for powerful leaders to get alone and forge alliances among their peers, if it came to the worst. Kokichi Ouma, being the SHSL Supreme Leader and the leader of DICE (an almost cult-like society), was of course invited to the gathering. Though he didn't want to go alone; mostly for his own safety. He had a lot of enemies to his position, after all. So, of course, the best choice was to get someone to protect him, correct? ...And not an assassin who hated his guts, probably.  
Kiibo glanced over, his fans gently whirring under the collar of his dress shirt that had taken forever to get over his metal body. "Ouma-kun? Are you alright?"  
“Oh! Nishishi… of course I am!” The leader puffed out his chest a little, plastering a grin on his face that Kiibo raised an eyebrow at.  
“My facial recognition receptors tell me otherwise… are you nervous?”  
“E-eh?” Ouma paused and gasped a little, before puffing out his cheeks in annoyance. “How dare you, I could never be-”  
“Those men in there are much taller than yourself. Perhaps you are intimidated?”  
“K-Kiibo-chan, please-”  
The robot paused, before smiling softly, his fans whirring a little louder (perhaps out of some construct of embarrassment?). “I have been told that this can ease worries.”  
“...” Ouma laughed slightly, gently scratching his cheek as he looked away, a soft pink tint rising to his cheeks as he heard soft laughing from the robot. He felt something cold touch his hand, and soft eyes glanced down, finding that Kiibo had intertwined his robotic fingers into his, leaving one sticking out thanks to the polydactyly that had left the leader with an extra finger.  
Kiibo leant in a little closer, lowering his voice a little. "It's alright. I will protect you, Ouma-kun." And with that, he pulled up the hand he held and gently kissed the back of it, his lips cold against Ouma's skin and causing him to shiver, though he seemed to be more embarrassed than shocked at the cold touch.  
"...T-thank you."  
The two started laughing as Kiibo rose to his feet again, before heading into the building where the party continued on, hand in hand, where they danced and drank and talked until the early hours of the morning.

Kiibo walked home that night, with a sleeping supreme leader in his arms, his white suit covered in juice from falling over, drunk on a sugar high.


End file.
